When people talk about rape, they often think rape steals your innocence. For me, rape and sexual abuse atole everything! It stole my entire childhood. It stole my friends and my family. It stole my dreams. It ultimately made me drop out of school. Ive destroyed my body and have scars all over both thighs and from my wrist to my forearm on one arm.

To this day I cannot think of having sex with a partner. My friends are going out and loosing their virginities and my mind immediately wanders to the worst case scenarios. Will he stop if I say No? Will he try an goad me into sexual favours? Will he take advantage of me like all those years ago.

I recently spoke at a high school graduation and for the first time went public about my experience with Childhood Sexual Abuse & domestic violence. Imagine being 7 years old, walking into your bedroom after taking your nightly bath, and

Nobody really knows my whole, true story. I don’t like to talk about it; however, I think people need to quit assuming they know everything and gossiping, slut shaming me, and making it seem as though I was never a

I grew up in a family that talked about sexual abuse. My father was a pastor. My mother worked with children often. I knew all the signs, or so I thought. The only thing they really didn’t mention to me

I don’t remember it happening. Shit. Now that I’m thinking hard of enough I do. Shit. Now that I’m thinking hard enough. I can remember his body pressed on mine. Stop. Shame. I don’t remember how many times it happened.

Please follow the link to view Ana’s video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cyo9eyXTir8 A Message from Ana: If you are being abused or have been abused, please seek help. Never give up hope. I love you and you matter. RAINN.ORG is a good source

You’re dirty. You’re disgusting. No one is going to want you now. It’s your fault. You shouldn’t have been there in the first place. You’re an idiot. Why didn’t you fight back? Maybe it wasn’t as bad as you think. Whatever you do, don’t tell anyone what happened.

I was closest to my Grandmother. We didn’t talk much, but I never felt the need to always talk with her. I was comfortable with her, and thinking back now I think she was the only person I was truly comfortable with. I trusted her. It was my Grandmother who realized something else was going on. I was pregnant. I may, or may not have fallen down the stairs, but one thing is for sure. I was raped. We didn’t discuss it.

Turning off the lights and putting on the movie Speed, she retreated to the living room where she completely forgot about us. How the event came about is a mystery to me, but the four boys eventually ran out of things to occupy them and decided to experiment with me. Some older and some younger than me, they pinned me down, removed their and my underwear and simulated a gang rape.

This is my story –of a 13-year-old victim who reported to the police in 1956. Ancient history? Perhaps, but it may give some insight into why victims don't report and the surreal experience of doing so. That said, I firmly believe that victims should speak out and identify themselves. It is not their shame! Not publishing names "in order to protect the victim" implies that somehow it is the victim's shame. Rapists are the ones who deserve to be identified and shamed.

Life went on as normal, everyone pretended that everything was fine and that nothing had happened. No one but a few close friends that I had finally confided in knew what had happened. But that kind of secret, festers and boils below the surface until one day the cracks start to appear.

I was 12 years old when I became "the victim" of the unspeakable and life has never been the same for me and it never will. I can't tell you honestly how many times I was sexually assaulted as a child because I've hidden from the memories for so long by the age of 14 I could no longer cope so I turned to drugs,alcohol and anything else I could find to make me feel better if even for a moment. Maybe that's why I can remember only bits and pieces of those years.

The When You're Ready Project is a community for survivors of sexual violence to share their stories and have their voices heard, finding strength in one another. When you're ready to share your story, we will be here.